


you were all on my mind

by brookethenerd



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:21:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21657472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookethenerd/pseuds/brookethenerd
Summary: Reader is sent by the CIA to investigate Robin and Steve in the aftermath of Starcourt, but missions are hard to complete when you’re falling for your mark
Relationships: Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley/Reader, Robin Buckley/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	you were all on my mind

If it weren’t for your father, you never would have gotten the job. It was one fit for someone with actual qualifications, not just the teenager who’d grown up with spies - a real spy.

But, the targets - a girl named Robin and a boy named Steve - were close to your age, and your father couldn’t exactly send a hardened operative to question two teenagers who had clearly seen enough to know how to hide. So, he’d chosen you.

It wasn’t all that complicated of a mission - if you could even call it that. After the mess the Russians made of Starcourt Mall and the gate, the CIA needed information. They still didn’t know how the Russians knew about the gate in Hawkins, or what the massive creature they’d found dead on the floor was.

The only people still in Hawkins after the dust settled who had seen it all go down was a smattering of teenagers. Your father figured they were most likely to trust one of their own.

You doubted it; the very fact that they’d seen so much would likely shut them off to outsiders. You were barely trained in anything - a glorified assistant who only got the job because of daddy - and you knew that.

But there you were anyway, pushing through the doors of family video. The entire store was run by only a few employees, and you’d only had to watch for a few days to realize that Steve and Robin came in almost every day, even if only one was scheduled.

Sure enough, Steve Harrington popped his head up behind the counter outfitted in a tacky green vest. A beat later, Robin Buckley came around one of the aisles with a pile of movies. She brought them to the counter and set them down, noticing you a moment after Steve did.

“Let me know if you need any help,” Robin said and began speaking with Steve, too quiet for you to hear.

She wasn’t what you expected; neither of them was. It didn’t seem plausible that this pair of normal teenagers had gone up against monsters and Russians and won. And yet, when Robin turned her head, the light caught a scar on her cheek, and the bump on the bridge of Steve’s nose wasn’t borne unto him, but broken.

You supposed you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. After all, you weren’t what you seemed, either.

“Do you give out movie recs, too, or just sell them?” You asked, approaching the counter. Robin cocked a brow and gestured between her and Steve.

“Depends on what you’re looking for,” she said. “Steve here is your expert on anything tacky or plotless, and I’m your go-to on everything else.”

You laughed despite yourself; your mission was to gain information, not giggle at the girl’s jokes. But it had been a long time since you were around people your age; especially, beautiful girls your age.

Beautiful girls that helped take down a massive creature never before seen on this earth and demolished a Russian base, you reminded yourself.

“No offense, Steve,” you said, “but I think I’m gonna have to go with your friend here.” You knew her name, and it was written on her name-tag, but you were good at what you did. Being raised by a man like your father made sure of it. And you’d be damned if you failed the first time he trusted you in the field on your own.

“Robin,” she said, lips quirking up in a grin as she held a hand across the counter. You took it and shook, “Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. You passed the first test.”

“First test?” Your stomach rolled; what the hell kind of game was this girl playing?

She smiled. “Half the people that come in here want some Hobgoblins shit, and the other half just want to flirt with Harrington,” she nodded toward Steve, and you pretended to follow along as if you didn’t know who she was referring to, “You’re the first in a while who seems to actually care about movies.”

“I’m guessing you don’t just work here for the money, then?”

She led you to the first aisle of movies, which you pretended to look at as she spoke, half your attention on her, half on Steve Harrington at the front counter.

“First and foremost for the paycheck,” she said, “but also for the discounts on rentals.”

“And the company?” You asked, cocking a brow and nodding at Steve. Robin grinned.

“He’s not so bad. He makes magic with the microwave, though. You haven’t had nachos until you’ve had Steve’s,” she said.

“Keeping him around for the food,” you said, “not bad.” She laughed and came to a stop in front of the NEWLY FEATURED section and turned to face you.

“So, movies,” she said. “I get the feeling you’re not a jump scare type of person.”

“I’m more of a government conspiracy, tasteful monster movie type,” you said. A little too on the nose, but your goal was to make her squirm just enough for something to slip out. She was a little more guarded than Harrington, required a bit more prodding.

Plus, she was witty and pretty, and-

Robin’s face paled slightly at your words, and she hesitated a beat before clearing her throat.

“Specific,” she said, voice hollow. You shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile like you hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary at all.

But you had, and Robin knew it. If such little words strung together in a sentence could drain the blood from her face, it was clear she knew more than she should. Which meant Steve did, too.

They knew something. If your father was right, they knew _everything_.

* * *

Robin watched you leave, giving a wave and a smile when you looked back before pushing through the door and onto the street. The store, otherwise empty, seemed quieter than before.

“Well, well, well,” said Steve from behind her, in that infuriating tone he always used when he wanted to give her shit about something.

“Well, well, well, what?” She asked, returning to the counter and leaning against it. Steve, on the other side, pushed the pile of movies to be shelved out of his way and propped his elbows on the counter, face in his hands.

“Oh, come on. You were _totally_ flirting with her.”

Robin scoffed. “I was _not_ -”

“And she was _totally_ flirting with you.”

Robin frowned and furrowed her brows. It was hard to trust her instincts when it came to girls; after all, compliments and touches were a typical component of girls’ friendship. It was nearly impossible to know when they meant more. Especially in a small town like this.

“Don’t be a dingus, dingus,” Robin said halfheartedly, mind still caught on totally flirting with you.

“Original,” Steve said. “And I’m serious. I know what flirting looks like.”

“Really? And yet, you’re so bad at it.”

“Who’s had an actual girlfriend in this conversation?”

Robin faked confusion, looking around the store. “Shit, Keith’s had a girlfriend?”

“Hilarious.”

Robin grinned. “I know.”

“Fine,” Steve said, “Don’t listen to me. But when you’re all sad and mopey, don’t come crying to me. All I’ll have for you is a big, fat ‘I told you so.’”

Robin sighed and dropped her head against the counter. “I do so value our friendship, Harrington.”

Steve smirked. “Same here, Buckley.”

* * *

Going to the party had been a long shot - you had no way of confirming either Robin or Steve’s attendance - but once you arrived, pushing into the throng of bodies and cacophony of voices, you didn’t really care. You’d been to parties thrown by your father and his work friends, but those always included wine and hors d‘oeuvres and polite conversation. This was a tried and true house party, full of drunk teenagers, red solo cups with shitty beer, and music.

After the third cup, you didn’t care whether Harrington and Buckley came. Easier if they didn’t; you could remain a faceless addition to the party, dance until it ended, and pretend to tuck your tail between your legs having not found your marks. Just one night of freedom before going back to the job.

And then, of course, they showed. Steve, holding a bottle of vodka in one hand and Robin, having ditched the work vest for a v neck that left a little too much to the imagination. The beer wasn’t helping your concentration, but you refilled it the moment you saw Robin heading your way, greeting her with a full cup. She knocked her red solo against yours in a silent cheers, and took a long swig. She grimaced as she swallowed, and you laughed.

“My dad says its an acquired taste,” you said, “but I don’t really have any interest in drinking enough of this stuff to acquire it.”

“Better than the actual rubbing alcohol Steve brought,” she said, eyes bright and a little glazed from the alcohol. You laughed.

“And yet, it appears you’ve partaken.”

Robin shrugged and took another long drag from the cup.

“Yep,” she said. “The curse of youth.”

“The choice of youth.”

She grinned, and your stomach tumbled and fluttered; you prayed it was from the drink.

“Says the one also drinking shitty alcohol.”

“All alcohol is shitty.”

You lifted your drink and bumped it against hers. “Cheers to that.” You both took another sip, and Robin set hers down on the counter before meeting your gaze with pink cheeks. You couldn’t be sure if they were flushed from the alcohol or the close proximity between the two of you; yours were absolutely pink from the latter.

“Wanna dance?” She asked. You should have said no; dancing wasn’t talking, and talking was the job.

And yet, you smiled and let her pull you into the mob of teens and body heat. It was too packed to do much but sway and jump and sing, but it was more fun than you could remember having in ages. You didn’t know all the songs, but Robin did, and you were content enough to watch as she threw her head back and bobbed with the beat. At some point, Steve joined your pair, the three of you singing even louder, dancing harder, drinking more. The world tunneled until the only place remaining was the basement of some random Hawkins teenager’s home, with its packed walls and thumping music, and you and Robin and Steve. You didn’t even care that your skin was slick with sweat, or that you kept taking elbows in the sides as others around you danced. All you cared about was this. Moments suspended in time.

Sometime after sunset and before sunrise - you couldn’t quite see the numbers on your watch, anymore - Robin pulled you out of the crowd and onto the back porch. Your ears rang at the sudden silence, and the cool air lifted the sticky hairs from your neck.

Robin held her arms out and tipped her head back, the wind ruffling her hair as she swayed in it. You watched with your arms crossed, a smile playing on your lips.

“You’re not like I thought you’d be,” you said, the words popping out before you could stop them. Robin turned to face you, brows furrowing.

“Like you thought I’d be?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Like, I thought you’d be…I don’t know. Different. You’re not what I expected from monster hunters.” Too much. You’d said too much, too _fucking_ much, but you couldn’t stop. Robin’s face scrunched up even more as you spoke, but your mouth was in alcohol’s hands, now. “And Steve, I mean, wow. Both of you. You’re…”

The alcohol was still singing in your blood, but your words had sobered Robin, who crossed her arms and stepped closer to you.

“What are you talking about?”

The coldness of her tone was like being splashed in the face with water, and you realized all too quickly what you’d done.

Your father was right, they were all right. You weren’t ready, and all it had taken was a pretty girl and a few drinks to ruin everything.

“ _Nothing_. I’m…I think I’ve had…way too much.”

Robin shook her head, not assuaged, and a wall slammed down over her eyes, left only by narrowed eyes and a frown.

“Who the hell are you?”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out. You were lost for an excuse; the logical part of your brain had checked out for the evening.

“What the fuck do you want from us?” She continued.

“Nothing, I’m just-”

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you want from us?”

You wilted, leaning against the brick wall of the house.

“I was sent here to talk to you. And Steve.”

“Talk to us?”

“There are people who want to know what happened in that mall. And beneath it. But only very few were there. None of our- _my father’s_ people.”

Robin stiffened and stepped back. All the color drained from her face.

“You’re government.”

You winced. “Technically…but I-I don’t…”

“Feel free to go back wherever the hell you came from and tell whoever sent you that they can kiss our asses,” she said, pushing past you and toward the back door.

“Robin, wait-”

“And you, you can screw off,” she said, moving inside and tugging the door shut behind her, leaving you in the cold.

* * *

Robin successfully avoided you for three days - or, more accurately, you didn’t look for her - but when you walked into Family Video, hoping to catch Steve and explain, you found them both behind the counter. At the sight of you, Robin pursed her lips and pushed through the employee break room door, leaving you and Steve and an elderly lady browsing the animated films. Eyeing the lady, you stepped up to the counter and leaned against it. Steve ignored you, flipping through a magazine.

“I’m assuming you know,” you said. Still ignoring you, Steve turned the page. “I came to tell you - both of you - that I’m not doing it. Spying on you. I never thought-I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Hmm.”

You leaned forward, the movement breaking Steve’s pointed ignorance for a beat, his gaze flicking to yours and then back down.

“I didn’t tell him,” you said. “Said you two didn’t know anything.”

“Hmm.”

You pushed off the counter, nodding. “And, that’s all, I guess. My father’s people should stay out of your hair. And if they don’t, give me a call, okay? Robin…Robin has my number.” Steve flipped the page in acknowledgment, and you nodded again.

“I’m sorry,” you said before turning and heading for the front door. No one stopped you; you supposed you’d lost that right. You didn’t deserve to be run after.

* * *

There was a knock on the motel room door a little after you got back and you stopped your packing, heading for the door and peeking through the peephole. You opened the door, shocked, to find Robin standing on the other side, still wearing her work vest.

“I heard,” she said, “what you told Steve. About what you did for us.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for not turning us in.”

Your brows pulled together, and you stepped back, gesturing for her to come in. You shut the door behind her, and she surveyed the small motel room, specifically the half-packed duffel bag.

“You’re leaving,” she said.

“I think so,” you said, which was the truth. You weren’t sure whether you were going to stuff the duffel into your car and drive away or simply unpack it once you were finished. You wanted to stay, but you’d burned the bridge.

“You think so?”

You shrugged. “I’m not going back to my father. I guess I have to figure out what to do with my life, now.”

Robin pursed her lips.

“You could do that here,” she said.

“Could I?” You asked. You needed…permission. _Needed_ her to want you to stay.

Robin smiled.

“Video store’s hiring.”

“Oh?” You asked, lips quirking up.

“There’s always room for another outcast,” she said, and you laughed, the happiness bubbling up and bursting out of you. The word didn’t seem like such a bad thing; if being an outcast meant staying here, with Robin, with Steve, it couldn’t be all that bad.

“Even one who fucked up? Lied?”

Robin grinned and stepped closer to you, cocking her head. “If they apologized again, really nicely, I bet we could make an exception.” She took another step, and your breath hitched.

“I’m sorry,” you said. Robin shifted an inch closer, hand coming up to settle on your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

She leaned in, lips grazing yours before she shifted to whisper in your ear, tickling your earlobe and making your stomach flop. “Apology accepted.”

She pulled back and smiled, and all of a sudden, she was too, too far from you. You reached out and drew her to you, arms slipping around her, mouth meeting hers. She smiled against your lips, hands moving into your hair and leaving fire everywhere she touched.

When you pulled back to catch your breath, you smiled at her, flicking the stray hairs off her forehead.

“I take it that means you’re staying, then?” She asked.

“I’m staying,” you said, and pulled her back to you.


End file.
